


The Witcher - One Shots

by Just_another_fanfic



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Drunk Witchers (The Witcher), F/M, I just wanna fuck Regis okay, I’ve never written porn before, Mostly porn, Porn With Plot, Smut, hopefully it’s not terrible, not so much plot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-14 13:34:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29792670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Just_another_fanfic/pseuds/Just_another_fanfic
Summary: I’ve fallen in love with the Witcher universe and took up writing again. Please (PLEASE) feel free to make a request.
Relationships: Emiel Regis Rohellec Terzieff-Godefroy/Reader, Emiel Regis Rohellec Terzieff-Godefroy/You
Comments: 4
Kudos: 17





	The Witcher - One Shots

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve never written smut before but I’ve read ~~a lot~~ a bit of it. Hopefully it’s not terrible. Please let me know if you have any requests!

“Regis? Really?” 

“Don’t judge me Geralt,” you quipped, “you’re the one that asked, anyway.” 

The older of the two held his scarred hands up in surrender. 

“Well I wasn’t expecting your answer to be _Regis_.” Geralt countered, a smirk now appearing through his beard. “He’s ancient.” 

“I like what I like.” you shrugged, “And besides, you’re no spring chicken yourself.” 

The two Witchers sat by the fire, already a bottle of booze deep into their evening. The warm Toussaint breeze danced in your hair, wafting the lavender scented soap you’d used only that morning to your nose. 

It wasn’t every day a Witcher got to bathe, and you’d taken full advantage. 

“Well,” Geralt continued, ignoring the jab at his age, “given the way he looks at you I’d wager he shares the sentiment.” 

You raised your eyebrows at him, the only response you could make whilst taking a swig of the strong booze in your hands. “How much, exactly, would you wager?” You asked, swallowing the mouthful of mandrake liquor. 

“Well, I’ve got about 500 crowns on me at the moment. I don’t normally bet my entire worth, but-“ 

“What are we betting on?” A new voice joined the party. 

Out of a swirling cloud of mist materialized a tall, thin man. Regis’s graying hair was slightly askew, perhaps from whatever he’d been up to before immaterializing. He raised his eyebrows at the pair of them before seating himself next to you. You offered up the bottle of his own concoction and he accepted with a warm smile, lifting the bottle to his own lips. 

“See you two have started the fun without me,” mused Regis. He took another long drink of the mandrake moonshine, savoring the taste before swallowing. A sigh parted his lips, and he closed his eyes. 

“We were just talking about (Y/N)’s love life,” Gerald said nonchalantly, grinning at the daggers you glared his direction. 

“Oh, do tell.” Regis said, his own grin now accompanying Geralt’s. “And here I thought (Y/N) had no interest in romance.” 

You crossed your arms at the both of them before grudgingly taking another swig of the mandrake elixir. 

“I’m betting our friend can’t get laid before we leave Toussaint,” Geralt explained. You threw a nearby stick at his face, which he dodged with ease. 

“That’s _not_ a bet I’d take,” Regis laughed, “(Y/N) could have anyone in the duchy if she put her mind to it.” 

“Sure,” Geralt agreed, taking another drink. “But apparently she’s got eyes for only one of them.” 

“Has she now?” Regis continued conversationally, now turning to you with a playful look in his eyes. “I’m curious, what’s he like?” 

“Old.” You said flatly, taking another gulp of liquor before passing the bottle back to Regis. “And far too curious for his own good.”

Geralt barked out a laugh. Regis, apparently not putting two and two together, cocked his head to the side. 

“Well he must be quite something, to have you so intrigued.” He mused, putting a finger to his chin and tapping thoughtfully. He studied the blank look on your face, as if staring long enough might solve the identity of the man of your desires. 

“He’s something, all right.” said Geralt. 

“Why do I travel with you again?” You sighed, rolling your eyes at the two of them and taking another drink. You blinked a few times and felt the warm feeling of intoxication begin to wash over you. You sighed again, this time much more contentedly. You reached out the bottle to your travel companion and Geralt gladly accepted. 

The three of you chatted into the night, finally finished with the the Duchess’s contract. Regis drank more than usual, undoubtedly still mourning the loss of his departed friend. It was two bottles and a few hours of shared stories later before anyone made a move to leave. 

Geralt lifted himself up heavily, stretching lazily and stumbling a bit. 

“Have to piss again?” You asked, slurring a bit. That mandrake moonshine was good. 

“As entrancing as your company is, I think I’m going to go for a walk.” Geralt said pointedly, looking over at the two of them. “A long walk. You won’t need help changing your bandages tonight, will you?” 

“Bandages?” Regis turned his gaze towards you, his brow furrowing. 

“I took a contract on a cockatrice this morning.” You explained with a shrug. “Got a bit of a scratch before I finished the job. Nothing serious.” 

Regis hummed, his brow unfurrowing, but still eyeing you with a bit of concern. 

“There’s a particularly good brothel over by the docks, so I hear,” Regis suggested, after deciding you wouldn’t keel over from your mystery wound that very instant. “You need not worry about our dear (Y/N), Geralt. I’ll tend to her.” 

Geralt raised his eyebrows appreciatively, and after walking off in the opposite direction, reoriented himself and headed towards the house of working ladies. After a few moments his soft footfalls faded into the night, being swallowed by the sounds of the cemetery wildlife around the two. 

“You’re a bad influence,” you said, smirking at Regis. He held his hands up, feigning innocence. 

“Why I simply try to help friends in need.” Regis defended playfully, “and our Geralt seemed like such a friend. Now, let’s see to this scratch of yours.” 

“You really don’t need to worry, Regis. Besides, it’s in a bit of a difficult spot and Geralt only just changed the bandages.” You argued, a bit of color entering your cheeks at the thought of undressing in front of him alone. 

“Nonsense,” Regis countered, already dispensing some of the night’s liquor into his palms and rubbing them together. “I am a doctor, you remember.” 

You bit your lip, silently cursing Geralt for putting you in this position. Of course, taking your clothes off for Regis was certainly not an unpleasant thought, but you were intoxicated, and Geralt wasn’t exactly an expert at reading other’s romantic interests, let alone a Higher Vampire’s. For all you really knew, Regis could view you as a little sister. 

You cringed at the thought. 

Sighing in resignation, you muttered something in agreement before lifting yourself up to your feet and undoing the clasps of your chest piece. The armor fell away to your feet with a thud and you raised your arms above your head, wincing at the sting of the wound between your shoulder blades. You gingerly pulled the fabric of your shirt above your head, freeing your breasts to the cool night air. You kept your back turned to Regis, and instead looked over your shoulder at him expectantly. 

Regis took his cue and stood up. You could feel the soft exhale of his breath on your bare skin, and then felt his nimble fingers carefully undoing the bandages Geralt had applied earlier that day. He wound up the gauze, passing it from hand to hand as he unraveled it from your torso. At one point, his hands grazed one of your breasts while he was passing the old gauze around. 

“My apologies,” he murmured, now making sure to lower his hands as he passed the gauze around. 

“None needed,” you tried to sound nonchalant, but the slightest touch from him had goosebumps forming on your skin, and your nipples were now acutely sensitive to the breeze in the air. 

_“Damn you Geralt,”_ you thought irritably. 

The gauze now gone, you felt Regis’s cool fingertips feeling the puckered outer edges of the wound, humming his approval at the healing process thus far. 

“The regeneration of you Witchers never ceases to amaze me.” Regis noted. You heard him rummage around in his bag before procuring some clean gauze, as well as a few bottles of something, probably antiseptics. 

“Thank you,” you said, Regis’s praise making you smile despite yourself. He began dabbing a liberal amount of a sticky substance along the outside of the wound, and applied a layer of thick gauze over the area, pressing it down gently along the outer edges. 

“That should do,” Regis said. You could hear the smile in his voice. “Nothing against Geralt’s healing abilities, but this should allow you more range of motion.” 

You lifted your arms up and down experimentally, rolling your shoulders and letting out a hum of satisfaction. You turned towards him and grinned. 

“Thanks Regis, I really appreciate it.” 

The look on Regis’s face made you frown. His lips were now pressed together in a tight line, and he appeared almost flushed? In your buzzed state, it took you a moment to realize you had turned towards him entirely naked from the waist up. 

“Oh!” You hastily covered your breasts with your arms, “Regis I’m sorry- I totally forgot I-“ 

“No don’t be!” He said quickly, his uncomfortable gaze quickly changing to one of forced nonchalant, it’s just that- you’re just-“ he grappled with words for a moment, ultimately coming up with nothing. He closed his mouth, his eyes not wavering from yours. 

“Scarred and calloused?” You offered wryly. Your torso, and the rest of you really, was decorated with an array of scars in varying stages of healing, gifted to you from monsters and men alike. 

“What?” Regis asked, a puzzled look now on his face, “no, (Y/N) I was going to say you’re, well, gorgeous. I was trying to find a way to put it without making things.. awkward.” 

Heat flooded your cheeks. It shouldn’t have. You’d not been around terribly long, even by human standards, but you’d been with quite a few men- quite a few women too- and really weren’t exactly modest. But the simplest compliment from the vampire had you blushing like a virgin on her wedding night. 

“I.. Oh. Thank you Regis.” you stammered, kicking yourself mentally at your lack of articulation. 

The sound of crickets chirping in the silence between you two was comical, given the situation. 

“I hope I haven’t made things uncomfortable.” Regis murmured, looking at you as if he were afraid you’d walk off into the woods half naked and leave him there. “I wouldn’t want this to change anything between us.” 

Maybe it was the booze, or maybe it was the concern Regis had, despite the obvious conversation Geralt had forced earlier. But you started laughing. You tried to stop at the confused look Regis gave you, but all you could muster was a “Regis,” before collapsing into laughter once again. You dropped your arms and, closed the distance between you two, pulling him in for a hug. Words clearly wouldn’t come to you just then, and you didn’t want Regis to think you were mocking him. 

He hesitantly returned the embrace, wrapping his arms lightly around you and carefully resting them on your back, careful not to disturb the bandaging now residing there. You pulled away from him after a moment and moved your arms back to cover your breasts again. 

“Regis,” you started, once you knew you could trust yourself to speak again, “earlier- it was _you_ we were talking about.” 

“I- what?” He asked, tilting his head to the side. He was so damn cute. 

“You asked what we were betting on,” you prompted, looking up at him, “About the man I have my eyes fixed on.” 

Regis’s eyes widened and it was his turn to stammer. He opened his mouth and closed it again, looking you over in wonder. 

“You really think of me like.. like that?” 

“Why sound so surprised?” You teased. You pushed a stray lock of hair out of your face, letting your arms drop once again, your boozed modesty leaving you now. “I thought it was pretty obvious.” 

“I suppose I might have picked up on some cues,” Regis conceded, “but I thought I was just being overly hopeful. I mean,” he laughed, “the circumstances on you and Geralt being here in Toussaint in the first place should make a Higher Vampire very off-putting for a human.”

You shrugged your shoulders. The embers of the slowly dying fire cast a warm glow over Regis’s face, his dark eyes twinkling in the last dancing flames. You glanced over and cast igni, causing new flames to leap to life. 

“I’m not entirely human, you know. And I think I can handle you just fine.” 

At last, Regis smiled. A true smile, showing off his lovely white teeth and making his eyes crinkle around the corners. You mirrored him, beaming up at the man. He took a tentative step towards you, reaching down to take your hands in his own. They were big and cool and comforting as they wrapped around your own. 

“I suppose you’re right,” he murmured. 

He bent his head down and you stood up on your toes, moving your hands to hold his face in them. He closed his eyes at your warm touch, and moved his arms around you, pulling you against him. You felt goosebumps reappear on your skin at this, and your heartbeat quickened in spite of yourself. You knew he could hear it. 

“If you’d be willing to oblige,” you whispered, “I’d love to make sure Geralt loses that bet.” 

In an instant, his lips were on yours. Your hands moved from his face and instead snaked around his shoulders, pulling him closer hungrily, greedily. You’d wanted Regis for ages, and you weren’t keen on letting him go anytime soon now that you had him. 

He lifted you up easily, and you wrapped your legs around his waist, deepening the kiss and swirling your tongue around his. You took his bottom lip between your teeth and bit down teasingly, eliciting a low groan from him that made your heart flutter. He pulled away from your mouth and opened his eyes, looking down at you with a hunger that sent shivers down your spine. 

“Be careful, little one,” he growled, “don’t get me too excited.” 

You could feel the sudden pressure of an erection growing in his trousers. You pressed your hips against his, becoming frustrated with the lack of sensation between your combined layers of clothing. 

“These need to come off,” you said, letting your legs fall from his waist and your feet hit solid ground once again, “now.” 

Regis hummed, obliging your demands and slowly- tantalizingly slowly- removing his garments one by one. Finally, he was reduced to just his briefs. He drew himself up to his full height once again and raised his eyebrows at you. 

“Were you going to do the same, or are you just enjoying the show?” He asked, his voice now a velvety purr. You shivered at the sound and moved your own hands to your trousers, unbuckling the Witcher armor and pulling them down slowly. Partly to make Regis go insane, and partially because any quick movements aggravated the dickhead cockatrice’s wound on your back. 

You raised your head, letting your hair fall messily around your face. The scent of sweat and lavender caught in the wind and Regis visibly grew harder, his bulging erection now straining his underwear. 

“Come here,” he growled. His breathing was controlled, but only just. You could see the hunger in his face, and hear his heartbeat thumping wildly in his chest. He was yearning to feel you, kiss you, fuck you senseless. 

You relished in his need. 

You walked over to him slowly, letting your hips sway in the open air. The breeze danced around your hair, lifting it playfully into the air before grazing your cheeks and falling back to its usual place. Your bare feet moved silently in the soft grass as you made your way over to Regis. Finally, you were separated by only mere inches. You bit your lip as you looked up at him, tilting your head to let your hair fall to one side, another waft of lavender caught in the breeze. 

Suddenly, Regis was upon you. His hands, usually calm and gentle, were rough and frantic. He pulled you sharply against him and let his hands run over your naked body, squeezing your ass and running his fingers up your muscled midriff to massage your breasts as he kissed you. 

You opened your mouth and let out a moan, giving way just enough for Regis’s tongue to move between your lips and explore your mouth. His breath was hot and sweet and made you tremble. He pressed himself against you and your breath hitched when you felt his cock pressed against your abdomen. He was too tall for this to work standing up. 

It seems he shared the same thought, for his arms now lifted you off the ground and, none too gently, set you down in the grass on your back. Your breath came out in a huff, and Regis wasted no time maneuvering himself on top of you. He propped himself up on his elbows, resting on either side of your head. 

“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” He murmured. A glimpse of his usual, gentler self was visible once again as he looked down at you. “I cannot wait to make every inch of your body mine.” 

“Fuck, Regis,” you whispered shakily. He was seriously going to make you lose your mind. Right here in the cemetery. Geralt was going to come back in the morning and find you stark naked and absolutely looney and it was going to be all Regis’s fault. 

He grinned down at the reaction his words had on you. He pressed his lips against yours once again and lowered his weight down onto you carefully. 

This time, his erection was aptly positioned against your core. Shooting pangs of pleasure wracked through your body as his cock rubbed against your aching clit, making your groan. He was taking his sweet time with this. 

You felt him begin to rhythmically move his hips against yours, separated only by the thin cloth of his briefs. You squirmed in frustration, tugging at them impatiently. 

“Why. Are. These. Still. _On_?!” You demanded, and with a final tug, you tore the thin garment off him. His cock sprang up, already glistening at the tip. 

“That’s.. that’s better,” you breathed, staring quite unashamedly at his full arousal. Regis was a modest man but he clearly had no reason to be so. 

“Those were my favorite underwear,” he noted casually. Looking down at the tattered cloth with a wry smirk. 

“Oh, I’ll buy you new ones- just get inside me you prick,” you growled, trying to pull him down on top of you again. He clicked his tongue disapprovingly at you. 

“So impatient,” he chided, dragging his fingers down your chest teasingly. He tweaked one of your nipples playfully, sending searing a pang of pleasure through your body. “I want to taste you first.” 

“Fuck” you whispered. “Fuck Regis, you’re going to drive me mad.” 

“That is the idea,” he said matter-o-factly. We’re you not able to hear his rapid heartbeat, you’d think he was cool as a cucumber, playing with you just for the hell of it. 

He lowered himself down between your legs and looked up at you through his dark lashes. Your chest rose and fell in shallow breaths, and your nipples were so hard they _ached_. 

And then, you felt him. 

Regis, curse that man, dragged his tongue tantalizingly across your cunt, parting your lips and stopping just shy of your clit. If it were someone else, some human your were sleeping with, you might think they were just inexperienced. But this was Regis. That son of a bitch was ancient and knew _exactly_ what he was doing. 

He teased you mercilessly. Swirling his tongue around your most sensitive area without giving you the purchase you were literally begging for. You bucked your hips wildly, hoping to find release, but he was careful. He had you edging the point of release for so long your legs were trembling and you were rendered a begging, desperate mess. 

No one had EVER made you make the sounds he did. 

“Fuck, _FUCK!_ Regis please! I swear to all the gods on the continent if you don’t fuck me right now my heart is going to stop!” 

Finally, the torturous tirade ended, and Regis’s face was once again visible. 

“Now (Y/N), why didn’t you just say so?” He asked innocently. You could have killed him. He was such a smug little shit. 

He dipped his head down again, and this time let his tongue flick directly against your clit before sucking on it. You shrieked as the unexpected orgasm hit you full force. Your hips bucked against Regis’s face and your hands dug into the grass. It wasn’t until your back arched and the newly formed scabs on your healing wound split open that you were brought back down to the land of the living. Mostly. 

Waves of pleasure were still washing over you, when you realized Regis had gone completely rigid. 

“Regis?” 

You propped yourself up on your elbows, wincing at the pain of your wound being forced open. You felt the warmth of fresh blood soaking into the gauze on your back. 

Oh. Blood. 

Regis’s eyes were screwed shut. He was biting his lip and his nostrils were flared. After a moment, he opened his eyes again. They were darker than you’d ever seen them before. 

Upon seeing the concerned look your face, Regis’s own became apologetic. 

“I’m sorry, he murmured, moving from where he was between your legs. He sat up, taking a few calming breaths and rubbing his eyes with his hand. “You just.. your blood smells intoxicating.” 

A thought suddenly crossed your mind. 

“Ever had a Witcher’s blood before?” You asked, curiosity getting the better of you. “I’ve no idea what it would taste like compared to anything else. I did know a Bruxa that seemed pretty fond of it, but she wasn’t exactly the most articulate about whether or not it was palatable.” 

Regis’s eyes snapped open. 

“I- no. No I haven’t.” He looked at you, now puzzled. “Surely you’re not implying what I think you are, are you?” 

“Of course not,” you said, reaching over to your discarded clothes. “Don’t be silly, Regis.” You pulled out a small blade from one of your pockets and twirled it around your fingers. Regis groaned, his head dropping forward to hide the urge to tear into the beautifully soft skin of your neck. His heart rate doubled.

“(Y/N), if you do this, it might drive me wild.” He said shakily, looking up again and staring at the knife like it was going to bite him. “I.. I won’t be able to control myself.” 

“That is the idea,” you said, mocking his tone from earlier before he had all but committed a war crime on your clitoris. You lifted the blade to your neck and, tilting your head, flicked the knife. A small, shallow laceration welled up with crimson blood, and a large drop fell slowly down the length of your neck, welling at your collarbone. 

“Come here,” you whispered. 

Regis didn’t need to be told twice. He was upon you blindingly fast. His body was pressed hard against yours, and his mouth was dancing across the sweet spot on your neck. His tongue traced the length of the wound you’d inflicted yourself before his lips closed around it, sucking hard and positively mewling at the taste of it. 

Your breath came in shallow pants, as he ravaged your neck. Finally recovered from your first orgasm, you reached down and grasped his erection in your hand, lifting your hips off the ground to position him at your opening. 

Regis broke away from the cut along your neck, already beginning to heal. He looked down at you hazily, lust filling his pitch black eyes to the brim. 

“Fuck me, Regis.” 

Regis, the gentleman he was, was happy to oblige your request. 

In an instant, his cock was buried to the hilt inside you. All the breath left your lungs in a rush at the feeling of being filled so completely. Regis was now thrusting in and out of you at a maddening pace. His forehead was pressed against yours, his eyes shut tight as he rammed into you. 

You could feel a second orgasm building in your core with each thrust. Your entire body felt white hot, your fingers and toes tingled with electricity. Stars danced across your vision as your rode the beginnings of a second wave. 

Regis must have been close, too. You could hear his grunting become more ragged, his thrusts were becoming more frantic, less rhythmic. 

“Regis, I’m- I’m going to-“ 

“Tell me you’re mine,” he growled, his eyes now open and locked on yours, “I want to hear you say it.” 

“I’m yours,” you practically shouted, “completely and totally yours- fuck, Regis I’m-“ 

Regis went rigid again, he thrust into you hard, sending you over the edge. You let out a cry and climaxed, your cunt spasming around his cock. Regis moaned. Thrusting three more times before unloading inside you. You were still riding your own orgasm, milking every drop from his cock until he was trembling above you. 

Regis collapsed, panting. You reached a hand up and stroked his hair, earning a gentle hum from him between exhausted breaths. The two of you lay there for several minutes recovering, listening to each other’s breathing struggle to regulate. 

“You are truly extraordinary,” He murmured, his lips tickling the skin on your neck. 

You turned your head and pressed your lips against his forehead. You had just opened your mouth to respond, when the sound of a throat being cleared caught your attention. 

Geralt had returned from his “walk”, and was very obviously flustered at the sight of Regis’s bare ass staring at him in the fire light. 

“Back so soon?” You said dryly. Regis turned to look in Geralt’s direction as well, but didn’t bother to cover himself. 

“Brothel was closed,” Geralt muttered, looking rather put out by the situation, “did I interrupt?” 

Regis let out a tired laugh, “Why Geralt, truth be told you-“ 

“What you did was lose a bet,” you said weakly, pointing at him. “Pay up! 500 crowns, you white haired fuck.” 

“It wasn’t a legitimate bet,” Geralt argued. He sighed at the determined look on your face. 

“Dammit, fine.” He grumbled. He walked towards the pair of you and stooped down to collect the half full bottle of mandrake moonshine. 

“You two.. get cozy, I guess. Roach and I are going to the lake.”


End file.
